


Sand Ghosts

by Remarque



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Boba Fett - Freeform, Boba Fett Survives, Bounty Hunter, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, No Romance, The Gunslinger - Freeform, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, The big adventures of Boba and Fennec, boba and fennec, bros, canon sort of compliant, cos we want to know what happens to them in the time din's off galavanting around the galaxy, fennec shand - Freeform, partners, s01ch5, the mandalorian - Freeform, we'll see how much of this gets blown out of the water with book of Boba lmao, we're gonna catch up to season 2 eventually, you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remarque/pseuds/Remarque
Summary: Boba Fett usually works alone, but it's going to take the help of a phantom he pulls off the sands to get him back on his feet again.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	1. Kissing Death's Door

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a one-shot because I long for the scenes in between scenes but it will now continue as a multi-chapter story mainly with Boba and Fennec as they catch up to the events of Season 2 when they meet up with Mando. Please let me know what you think in the comments.

Boba watched through the small scope of his rifle as the Mandalorian crouched down to look at the body lying in the sand. He didn’t bother to feel for a pulse, seeing the staining on her tunic and believing her to be dead. A sloppy mistake for a bounty hunter, Boba thought. After years and years and bounty after bounty he knew in his bones how they walked, acted, packed. The man left the body, useless to him now as the bounty was for a live capture only, and mounted the dewback, turning back towards Mos Eisley. He didn’t envy the man for his journey ahead, it was long on the sluggish beast but he’d make it around nightfall. He watched through his scope, studying the Mandalorian for some time before pointing it back at the body in the sand. 

Fennec Shand. She was useful. As the sands take, the sands give back. Something he had learned many times over on this wasteland. Jabba’s idiots he kept around in the palace always used to talk about the sand ghosts. Wait long enough and the dead will be brought back to life. 

He supposed he was his own sand ghost now. And he was about to recruit another into his hauntings if she was strong enough to survive the trip. He figured she was. You don’t get to her position without a few tricks in your bag and some grit in your teeth.

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and mounted the shoddy speeder, cresting it over a few dunes before he pulled up next to the body left by the Mandalorian. Feeling for a pulse, which he found ever so faint, he picked up the assassin and secured her to the speeder, kicking fresh sand over the blood patch that had soaked down and formed a thick crust. Leave no trace. He kicked the speeder into a lower gear to avoid her falling off and headed to the north east of where the bounty hunter traveled. Just far enough out of town to keep his privacy. 

Stabilizing the downed woman was the hardest part. She was already too long in the sand for any type of normal medical procedure. No, this would take some tech. Luckily, Jabba’s palace had a back door. Luckily, he knew where it was and luckier yet, Jabba was dead. Which meant to the survivor go the spoils. 

His tent compound wasn’t ideal for a surgery like this but the medical droid he had “rescued” would have to be enough to get her guts exchanged for gears. 

“You expect me to keep this alive, Fett?” The droid mouthed him a little. It hadn’t had a memory wipe in too long and was starting to get a personality to match the grizzled hunter’s own. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t do it himself, but it persisted. 

“I expect you to do your job” he grumbled to it, cleaning up the area as best as he could and bringing over the bin of parts. 

“I’d do my job better if the patient wasn’t practically kissing death’s door” 

“Shut up and get a move on before I wipe you. Time is moving faster than we can afford and I need her” 

“Is that supposed to be a threat? I’d relish it at this point” the droid sighed as it picked up various tools and began the procedure, Boba doing what he knew to do to help but not getting in the way. He could patch himself up fine, but this was beyond his knowledge. She needed a doctor to be honest, but the droid would have to do. It would be a miracle if she made it at this point anyway. 

Minutes turned to hours as Boba stood watchfully over the proceedings. The droid had lost it’s lip as it focused on the work, almost appreciative to have a challenge once again. Wounded flesh was replaced with machine and several times Boba nearly lost hope that he would be able to keep her around, but she was nothing else if not a fighter. He admired that, even in a coma as she was. 

“Alright” the droid spoke, shutting the flap. “She’s going to need to be taken to a /real/ medical facility to finish this /nicely/ but she’s not going to die. Somehow. Probably will wish she would have for a while. I hope you’re ready to play nurse, Fett. She’ll wake up in a few hours.” 

Boba only nods to the droid but he can feel it roll its illuminated eyes, even without pupils to visualize it. 

“Next time you’ll bring back an actual corpse and ask me to fix it, I’m sure of it” it continues to mutter as it goes off to clean up the disastrous mess of multi hour surgery. 

Corpses don’t make good ghosts, he thought ironically. 

—

  
“Euueaaaaahhgg” Fennec moaned as she gasped for a breath, and then cried out again. Boba had fallen asleep on a nearby pallet of moderately soft and lumpy cushion, but he sprung up as if a spring wound tight had snapped. He moved quickly to the side of the table and placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place. 

“Calm yourself. You’re safe and alive”. He grunted as she struggled, weakly. 

“Just kill me you kriffing… Euagaaaagh” She moaned again and tried to clutch at her stomach. 

“Don’t touch it” he grabbed and restrained her arm. “You’ve been fixed up but the wound was bad. Lie still and recover.”

Fennec seemed to realize in her pained daze that it wouldn’t be any use trying to fight her way out of this and that she was probably better off now than what she last remembered. 

“Mando?” 

“Not the one you’re thinking of” He grunted as he moved away when he felt her relax. He grabbed a canteen and held it up to her lips, trying to get her to drink some water. She tried to drink eagerly but immediately yelped and tried to clutch at her stomach. 

“NO”. Something in the way his voice cut her made her stop despite the pain. 

“What the hell did you do to me” She wheezed, trying to will her eyes open to look at whoever had her on this table. 

“You were half dead. I pulled you off the sands. Fixed you up.” 

“Why does it… my..” 

“You’ve had some… organs replaced. They were fried by the blaster. You got what I had available so you wouldn’t die.” 

Fennec tried to take a deep breath but that hurt too and so she laid helplessly blinking and willing her eyes to focus. She finally managed to look over at the dark shadowed hooded man. 

“Why…” 

“It would be a waste of talent to leave you to the sand.” 

“…. you… you’re a clone.” 

Out of everything boba expected to come out of her mouth, that was not it and he couldn’t help but glower in annoyance. 

“Not the kind you think I am.” He said simply, tone threatening. 

She paused, trying to comprehend everything she’d just been hit with in the last 5 minutes and laid still on the table. Boba thought she might have slipped out of consciousness again until she asked for more water, which he obliged her. It was a painful and slow but necessary process. 

“Thank you…” She finally managed after a few sips. “For saving me….I’m in your debt”. 

Boba tried not to look a little smug. “Yes. But don’t worry. We’ll have some fun together. I’ve got some possessions to recover”. 


	2. Our Phantom Selves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fennec recovers from her wounds and learns more about the mysterious man who's rescued her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally chicken winging this story because I cannot plan anything for love nor money and i'm not getting either so have fun kids, buckle up.

Fennec’s recovery was a long and arduous as would be expected for its severity. Days she laid on the table only to be shifted one way or another by Boba or the droid, pillows propped here and there and near kegs of bacta sprayed to keep the healing process moving along. He had promised once she was well enough to stand up and not scream bloody murder all the way into Mos Eisley he would get her into an actual medical specialist to finish the process but that wasn’t happening any time soon. 

If she wasn’t half in and out of consciousness most of the time, sleeping, or in so much pain she could hardly see, she would have been bored out of her mind laying on the table in the sturdy tent. There wasn’t exactly a lot happening besides the robotic hum of the medical droid walking to and fro doing whatever menial task Boba didn’t deem worthy to bother himself with. She heard incessant knocking and pounding and soldering on something outside that she couldn’t tell but figured it was a vehicle of some sort by the way he cursed at it lowly. Other times the mysterious clone was not even around. Days would go by without her hearing anything beside the wind and the sand. Days later he would suddenly appear, walk over to her if she was awake and ask how she was doing. She relished having someone to talk to for the few moments she could keep her wits about her but the man was nothing if not stoic. 

It was after a particularly long stint of absence weeks later when she finally got up the courage to look over to where he was on the padded pallets, cleaning an ancient looking gun. She was propped up herself and sipping a class of water and something that the droid said “would keep her from rusting” whatever that meant. 

“Where do you go all the time?” 

Boba looked up at her, though if he was surprised at her question, his face did not betray it. 

“Have to make money to keep you alive somehow.” 

“And that somehow is?” She raised a brow, detesting how bland her conversation partner was. 

“Bounty hunting.” He stated simply and she sighed. 

“You guild?” 

He huffed a breath. “No. No guild on Tatooine anyway. You should know that.” 

“Tell that to the Mando and the stupid kriffing kid that got me into this. They were guild…. Know if they’re alive?” 

He huffs again. “The Mandalorian gunned that overeager welp as soon as he got into town. Di’kut..” He mumbled. “He was stupid to have even pulled the stunt that he did.” 

“I’ll say” Fennec huffed, noting the insult she did not know. “I was going to repay the favor if he was still around. Guess I’ll just have to send my regards to Mando.” 

“He’s wanted by the guild. I think he has his own problems. And we have ours”

“We have problems?” She looks back over at him. “Aside from the…” she moves a hand to gesture to her half covered torso “…obvious”. 

“We do” he grunts. “I’m going to need to take you to the medical center to get you fixed up sooner than I anticipated. My window of opportunity is closing for one of my …acquisitions.”

“A bounty? Look. I am really, thoroughly pleased you cared enough to do all of this for me. And I do owe you. More than I can pay, right now anyway..” She mumbles the last part “but I am really not looking to become a.. _bounty hunter_. Bail jumpers and lost mama’s boys aren’t really my standard if you understand what I’m saying. Do you even know who I am?” 

“Fennec Shand.” He loads something into the rifle and it makes a hard clack. “Crime syndicate assassin” 

“Well at least this is somewhat of a familiar relationship. And can I get your name oh mysterious bounty hunter? Clone commando, whatever you really are…” 

He lays the rifle in his lap thoughtfully and stares at her with unnerving eyes that she can feel boring into her soul and for once she sifts uncomfortable under someone’s gaze. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to her. 

“Boba Fett.” He says simply and evenly. 

She smiles at him “That’s cute. I think I deserve the common courtesy of knowing who you are though if I’ve got a Wookie life debt to you now.” 

He says nothing, but as she studies him in the dim lamp light of the tent, something starts to sit sickly in her gut. 

“Boba Fett is dead. Has been, for years. Sarlaac. Everyone knows the story” She almost tries to persuade him, “You could have picked any other random name in the entire galaxy and I would have believed you.” 

“Just because you heard a story, doesn’t mean that was its end.” 

She wanted to stare at him more, but he walked to the other side of the room to hang up the rifle. 

“But Boba Fett is a Mandalorian. You look like you just officiated a Tusken wedding. Where’s your armor?” 

The corner of his mouth twitched up when she admitted it was his. “That’s going to be part of our fun, Fennec Shand.” 

“Your closing window?”

“No, not for that. I… have something more pressing to acquire first.” 

“Look, I’m not saying I believe you because… Look nobody’s really seen what Boba Fett looks like, so there’s no way I can… It’s so… outlandish…” 

“Is it? Is it really the most outlandish thing you’ve heard of? Not perhaps lying on a table with half of your stomach…” he pulled back a sheet she had covered her stomach with to reveal the mechanics inside “Replaced with pistons and gears after you were left for dead on the sand? You’re a sand ghost yourself now, Fennec Shand. The Mandalorian didn’t even check your pulse. You are dead to the world, as I am. And there is nothing sweeter than ultimate fame as there is utter anonymity. Whispers on peoples tongues. And that is more of a gift to you than these spare parts. You should relish it. The bounty on your head is gone and if we play our cards right and keep our heads together, we might just be able to make something of our phantom selves.” 

Fennec was stunned into silence for a moment by the bald and lightly disfigured man standing before her. He had moved close to her face almost to convince her of these facts and she saw eyes that she had seen many times before, but.. not. Hard set features and the scarring of years of battle and, presumably the sarlaac on his visage. 

“Alright Fett. If you are who you say you are, you’re not fetching bail jumpers. I’ll be your phantom for a while.” Her resolute tone, faltered as something mechanical inside her body whirred unhappily and she gasped. 

“After we get you to the med center, or you’ll be an actual phantom.. Get up. It’s time to go.” 


	3. Sarlacc Spit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba tries to save Fennec from succumbing to her wounds and learns a few things from a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings for this one include some mentions of alcohol, drugs (spice) and mild swearing. I hope to keep going with this story even if it's not super exciting to start with. Hope you enjoy, comments and ideas are always welcome.

Fennec screamed into Boba’s ear once again as they sailed into the busy Mos Eisley streets. He’d lost count of how many times she ruptured his ear drum but quite frankly couldn’t blame her for it – only hoping he wouldn’t have some sort of permenant hearing loss from her shrill voice heard well and good over the roar of the speeder engine. He tried to pull into town as close as he could to the one doctor he knew he could trust that wouldn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer, but it was still a hike to get there. 

He dismounted the speeder and lifted her arm around around his shoulder as he traversed the back alleys to avoid drawing attention. The saving grace being that she wasn’t bleeding. 

“Remind me…” Fennec gasped through the streaks of pain from moving so much “to kill you when we’re done here…” 

“I may let it slip my mind” Boba murmured, turning away from a group of people giving them side eye. 

“You should have… left me on the dunes. Dank Farrik this hurts.” 

“It would hurt less if you shut up” He growled, practically carrying her the remaining steps to a nondescript doorway and knocking in a way he had a fair amount of times before. The door slid open after a moment and he stepped inside a dim lit entryway. Fennec saw a small woman approach. 

“Fett” she nodded to him, taking a step closer and looking at his face assessingly, murmuring her approval before looking at Fennec “What is this?” 

“Dorna” he nodded back to her. “Shot to the stomach. Droid patched her up with the parts I had but she’s not taking well to them. Can you fix it?” 

“Fett if I didn’t know you, I’d accuse you of being on spice thinking you could get a pre-empire piece of crap like that to do organ transpla--” 

Fennec’s cries as she spasmed again cut the doctor short. “CAN WE DO THIS ANOTHER TIME?” she wailed. 

Dorna nodded to a hallway to another room and Boba carried the patient into the pristine operating space, laying her on the table. She slipped on gloves and unwrapped the crude bandage Boba had thrown on her for the occasion. 

“Kriffing… what the hell were you thinking Fett?”

“I was thinking about keeping her alive. Can you fix her or not?” 

“I don’t know I might need to call a mechanic for an oil change...Yes I can fix her,” Dorna rolled her eyes heavily “but it’s going to cost you.” 

“You know I’m good for the money” he huffs. 

“Yes…” Dorna rolled her eyes. “Well, get your sandy hide out of here and grab some spotchka or spice or whatever it is you injest now a days... This is going to take a while…” 

“What, no snacks in your waiting room?” He said, even as he turned to leave. 

“Let the door hit you on the way out” Dorna huffed as she pulled up a stool and gave Fennec something to sleep. 

\---------

Boba took a seat in the cantina, a booth near the door that he could watch with keen eyes as he sipped on something stronger than he normally allowed himself. If Dorna said this would take a while, he believed her and anyway his skin ached and he wanted to try and forget it, so a tall and heavy handed glass of Sarlacc Spit should do the trick for a few hours. He didn’t even particularly like the drink but the irony suited him more than the taste and it was a quick trip to inibriation for most. 

He took in his surroundings and the cantina patrons, all going about their business without giving him so much as a second glance. His appearance was menacing enough, if he needed it to be, but it didn’t give the same initial punch that the beskar did. For that, he missed it. One could say he was vain in the way that he enjoyed all eyes resting on him wherever he went. The palpable nerves of people that had a reason to be. He didn’t hold that same power now, but as he told Fennec, the anonymity afforded him different perks. He glanced at a booth across the way and noticed a few fellow hunters who would often hang around Jabba’s palace. 

Must have missed the boat he thought blandly. Their eyes met his more than once, but without the tell tale green and red, they had no clue who gazed back. It often meant he could sit and gain information from them. They were stupid enough to talk about things they shouldn’t in public and he took full advantage. Who was he but another cantina regular. That’s how he got his information. 

They weren’t interesting this particular day, but there was a woman who was. A short little thing with unruly curly hair. He knew of her as a mechanic. Traded and hired her services every once in a blue moon but beyond that, not much more. He didn’t know if she would even talk to him about what he found himself getting up and going over to her for, but it was worth a shot. 

“Buy you a drink, mechanic?” He said, trying to take the gruffness out of his voice knowing she wouldn’t take kindly to it. 

“You can spare the credits when you have that ancient piece of shit for a ride?” She smirked. “Sure sandman. Have a seat.” He motioned to the bartender and took a seat across from her. “Sabbac?” 

“I’m afraid you’d sweep me out from under the table and take my bike with you by the time I finished this.” He managed a small smile as a server placed a glass of blue liquid in front of the woman. “I’ve been here enough times to see you hustle”. 

“I only hustle people I don’t like” She smirks back and takes a swig. “You’re not on that list yet.” 

“I’m honored. You probably keep enough interesting company that it could get pretty long” 

“You could say that. Happens when you’re here for as many years as I’ve been.” 

“Seen a lot then, I suspect. Know a lot”. 

“And there’s the womp rat in the hole” She leaned forward. “What are you after. Handsome devil like you isn’t going around buying women like me drinks just for fun”. 

He smiles genuinely. “The drink is genuine, I assure you. Separate from my curiosities”

“Well, get on then. What do you want to know”. She sits back, easing up a little as she nurses the hard alcohol.

“Saw a Mandalorian running around here a while back. Don’t get many of them now a days.” 

“Sure not. His ship was a piece of shit to. Almost as bad as your speeder. Kind of surprising considering the suit he was strutting around in.” 

“They say Beskar doubles every year. Wonder how he keeps it on his hide.” 

“Ah, well I don’t think he has trouble with that. Good shooter, got some brains in that bucket.” 

“You know him?” Boba raised a brow. 

“I wouldn’t go that far but he parked at my hanger. I saw him around.” She shruged non commitally. 

“What was he doing here? Just getting maintenance? Seems a little desperate.” 

“I resent that” she kicks him lightly under the table. “I don’t think he had a choice. Lotta carbon scoring if you know what I mean. Something about a bounty, you know the type.” 

“I heard some rumors recently that the bounty hunters guild has a price on a Mandalorian. Wonder if it’s the same one?” He shrugs back. 

“What’s it to you, sandman? You lookin for him? Gonna shoot him yourself?” 

“Hardly.” Boba huffs. “I’m not a bounty hunter and I’m not looking to tangle with a Mandalorian.” It was true, for the most part. He didn’t have any interest in taking him in to collect the reward but he could have his use if he came back.

“Awfully curious about him”. She looked at Boba, guarded, almost protective. 

“What can I say. Call me an admirer.” 

“Well, your admiring is done. He left for good I’d imagine. Seemed like a busy guy”. She finishes the drink. 

“Why’s that?”

“Wouldn’t you be if you had a price on your head?” 

“I suppose I would. Didn’t say where he was going, did he?” 

She shook her head “Nah. Looking for some people I think. More of his own kind maybe.”

Boba nods, knowing that even if she did know more, she wouldn’t tell him and he didn’t blame her for that. He got more than he thought he would anyway. 

“How’s business for you?” He shifts into more mundane conversation and lets her ramble almost as a reward for giving him what he wanted. With the way she gossipped and talked to anyone with ears to listen, and some without, Boba found her good company, never needing to say much once she got going, which was just the way he liked it. One drink turned to two and cards were exchanged after an hour which resulted in an exchange of credits that almost made them both come out even. It killed time for him anyway while he waited for Dorna and Fennec and there could be worse company than Peli Motto. 

\-------  
  
A kick to the side made Boba start with a dangerous jump and grab. Fortunately, Dorna knew what to look for and sidestepped him as he swiped defensively at his attacker. 

“Welcome back to the light, Fett. What were you pounding down to make you sleep that long?” 

“It doesn’t matter… How long was I out?” He shifted back onto the rock hard sofa in the room adjacent to the surgery room in Dorna’s quarters. 

“Couple of hours. You’ll be pleased to know that despite the absolute war crime of mechanics you brought to me, your girl is going to live, and quite will if I do say so myself.” 

Boba let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I owe you, Dorna”. 

“You sure do. Step into my office and we can begin negotiations” She rolls her eyes and leaves him to sit up and wipe the drowsiness of post inibriated sleep out of his eyes. He steps over to the doorway to see Fennec still resting though in a slightly more comfortable position, head elevated. Without opening her eyes she raises a hand and gives him a gesture that causes a smirk to lift his lips higher than they have in a while. 

She’ll be just fine. 


End file.
